My Generic Viagra story is connected with my place of business, since that’s where I met my woman, and where I like to give it to her a good part of the time. I may not have the manliest job in the world-I work at a plant store. No, I’m not exactly a cowboy. Although, we do some landscaping too, shoveling compost and manure and stuff like that into the backs of trucks, which is pretty manly if you ask me. My girlfriend certainly thinks so. We met long before I needed Generic Viagra, when she was browsing the shop just before closing. I asked her if she’d like some marigolds or pansies, or maybe something more exotic. Then she leaned over the counter, her pert breasts, bra-less, dangling before my eyes, and, licking her lips, asked me for a “banana tree.” Like an idiot, at first I answered that we didn’t have any bananas. “Oh yes you do!” she said, unzipping my fly, and plunging every inch of my bulging plantain right into her mouth. Back then, before the Generic Viagra era, I was ready to go at a moment’s notice, whenever that’s what it took to please a customer. In my girlfriend’s case, I helped her out of her pants, and got down to business. “Nice shrub!” I said. “I can tell it’s been recently trimmed-it’s just precious!” “And you’re a soft, pink tulip head on a long stem!” she replied. Wasn’t sure if I liked the metaphor, but hey, until I realized I needed Generic Viagra, I didn’t have any inferiority complexes. So I let it slide, quite literally. Like a good gardener, I weeded her red rose bed, then watered it thoroughly with a special growth serum, spraying it all over her (an even coat is important).

The only time she began to doubt my manhood was when I began having erectile dysfunction difficulties. She immediately began begging me to order some Generic Viagra, because, of course, she knew what a reputation it had. For the past several months, our encounters hadn’t been as successful as we had hoped. My proud flower was wilting, its head drooping sadly on a flaccid stem-and I thought about it every time I made the rounds of the greenhouse, plucking dead blossoms off of otherwise healthy plants. I was in the prime of life, and I needed Generic Viagra already? Maybe I’d been working too hard. Maybe I should work out, or something. My old garden hose was soft and half-rotten; before, with its patented power spray head, it had shot a broad, steady stream; now, I couldn’t even coax a drop from it. I was at a loss. Then, I began doing some research.

I didn’t realize that, quite simply, Generic Viagra helps you get back to nature, by restoring the natural circulation to your roots and stem, nourishing your tulip head with the blood it needs to develop a hard and lasting erection. I liked the sound of that, because I’m into organic gardening. I don’t want some bizarre sex treatment that’ll give me 48-hour erections. Generic Viagra simply allows me to respond to my woman the way I used to, in a natural way. Just last night, I took some for the first time, before my girlfriend was supposed to stop by. Long, and I mean long, story short-I took her out back to the greenhouse, where things were appropriately hot, moist, and steamy, and, surprising her with my towering, exotic Generic Viagra erection, laid her back on an empty portion of a plant stand, and planted her.